The Mission
by catfoxy
Summary: Ethan is on a mission. Can he save his team? Note: Read with a smile on your face..heehee..


_Disclaimer: I'm not making any money with this, it's just for fun. Also, no copyright infringement intended._

_Summary: Okay, I wrote this with a BIG smile on my face... which should tell you that this isn't to be taken too seriously. ;)_

_The short version of it is: Ethan is on a mission. Will he make it in time to save his team? _

_-o-o-o-_

**The Mission**

-o-

**Your mission, Ethan Hunt, should you accept it…**

-o-

Ethan had one hand on the steering wheel, and he didn't dare take his eyes off the road for even a second.

At the speed he was driving, it would have been deadly.

His other hand was reaching over to the passenger seat, to check that the file was still there.

The delivery was too important. He couldn't risk even the slightest mistake.

Driving hard and fast at a breakneck-speed, he was the only thing that stood between the success and failure of this mission.

Just as he took another hair-raising turn around a corner, heading into a tunnel that would keep him out of sight from the local police and safe from anyone picking up his trail, he felt the phone in his jacket start to vibrate.

Fishing one-handedly inside his jacket, while guiding his car around another corner, he barely slid past an unexpected broke-down car at the end of the tunnel – it was so close, he nearly lost his phone as he fought to keep his car from going head-first into the tunnel wall. But he made it past the obstacle.

Looking back into the rearview mirror at the shocked owner of the broke-down car, Ethan mumbled a well-meant 'sorry', before he reached for his phone once more.

As expected, the second he opened his phone, Brandt's voice came on the line:

"Ethan, you only got about four minutes until the deadline. Where the hell are you?"

Cursing softly at hearing how little time he had left, Ethan realized that the entire mission was now hanging on his driving skills. He looked around for any way to fasten his pace, and spotted what looked like an appropriate shortcut. Instantly he took a sharp left into the alley that was barely wide enough to allow one car through - _if_ you were willing to sacrifice your side view mirrors.

Not even flinching as one of his side mirrors lost the gamble and simply vaporized against a low-hanging window box on the right-hand side of his car, Ethan allowed his eyes to leave the road for the fracture of a second to answer Brandt:

"I know, I was caught up a little."

The memory of a sharp knife cutting deep into his hand flashed through Ethan's mind. He had been lucky. As it was, he merely felt his hand have a little trouble holding on to his phone – the crude bandaging he had hastily wrapped around his hand earlier was slowly letting the blood soak through again, making his grip slippery. But he couldn't concentrate on that now.

"But you're on your way with the file, right?" Brandt asked again, desperation creeping into his voice as he realized Ethan might have been held up.

"I'm on my way." Ethan replied tersely, not willing to leave Brandt without that hope. Brandt needed to know that Ethan was not out of the race yet.

In fact, crashing through the fence of a recently put up construction site – funny that, because until just last month, the spot had been one of Ethan's favorite shortcuts, but it was now obviously being turned into another high-rise building – Ethan could now start to see the outline of the building he was headed for. With a glimmer of renewed determination, Ethan informed Brandt.

"Be there in 2 minutes."

"You better, Ethan, or we're dead." Brandt replied nervously, but Ethan was already hanging up, as he needed to concentrate on the road again. That last light had been red – and he was pretty sure all the honking and screeching around him was not meant as a friendly gesture as he slalomed past a number of shocked and angry drivers in the middle of the busy intersection.

After successfully making it through the intersection, however, he already saw the next problem ahead: A delivery truck was blocking the driveway up to the main entrance of the building.

It was decision time. He knew that every inch he could cover by car was one less inch he needed to go on foot.

So, instead of slowing down to take the alternate, longer route to the parking lot across the street, he gunned the engine, down-shifting at the same time. Then he threw his car into a slide. One hand already on the door handle, he came to a screeching halt just inches away from the delivery truck. While his left hand threw open the door, his right hand grabbed the file from the passenger seat.

Jumping from the car, he then raced through a handful of pedestrians. Dodging them easily, he made it into the building.

Once inside, he needed a second to orient himself.

'Come on Ethan, move, MOVE!' he cursed himself, fully aware that he probably only had a little time left – and the future of his team was in his hands.

He quickly located the most direct line through the foyer. Unfortunately it meant he would have to go through a small cluster of personnel standing before a security checkpoint.

'Can't be helped,' Ethan thought, and set off.

Using the element of surprise, he raced right up to the understaffed security checkpoint with nothing more than several quick shouts of "Move! MOVE!". Amazingly, most of the waiting personnel reacted to his urgent shouts and instinctively moved out of his way. Except for the two guards at their checkpoint. But by the time they actually saw who was causing the commotion, Ethan was already sprinting past them and he was on his way towards the elevators. He could however hear the guards yell angrily after him to stop.

He failed to see the merit of that order.

What he also failed to see was an available elevator that would safely take him out of the guard's range.

He was losing options fast. For a moment he even considered going for his gun, his last resort. But then he noticed something out of the corner of his eyes: An open staircase door to his left.

A quick glance back at the guards told him they were quickly closing in on him. Even if he drew his gun now, he knew it would simply take too much time to deal with them. Time he didn't have. Better to go for speed than for confrontation.

So with a spurt he took off again, this time headed for the stairs, racing up two steps at a time. He heard the guards follow him into the staircase, but shortly after they reached the second landing, they stopped. He didn't care what had made them stop, but apparently they had gotten other orders. By the time he reached the third landing, his phone started ringing again. This time, he didn't even waste the time to check it.

"Damn it, Brandt, I'm moving as fast as I can!" he cursed out of breath, the desperation making him almost stumble.

Reaching the fourth landing, finally, he stormed out of the staircase and into the open corridor.

He quickly caught himself with his good hand on the wall to make the tight corner and immediately raced on down the hallway. Take one left, then race two doors down and take another sharp left, then on to the last door on the right. He knew that his friends would be in there. And if he wanted to save his team, he had to get the file into that room.

He didn't even slow down as he approached the door – instead he just grabbed the door handle, and almost fell in with it, as he practically slammed the door open in his hurry.

Brandt, Jane and Benji were indeed inside - all anxiously on their feet, except for Benji, who was sitting

"About time you showed up," Jane quipped nervously. She had obviously thought he wouldn't make it. Even Benji was fixing him with a panicked look that seemed to say 'you were cutting it awfully close, my friend'.

Seeing Brandt look anxiously at him as well, Ethan quickly held up the file in his hand, to show them that he had been successful.

Brandt breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank God, man. The meeting starts in twenty seconds," Brandt let himself fall into his chair at the conference table, where a video link had already been established, but their conference counterpart obviously hadn't arrived yet. Jane also fell into her seat, finally daring to breathe again: "Yeah, Ethan, you know that if the Secretary had seen us without your finished and typed out report _again_, he'd have probably put us on stand-down for a _week,_ to make us think about our paper-duties a little more thoroughly." Jane shivered at the thought.

While Jane adjusted her chair to make herself a bit more comfortable, Benji quickly began typing in the command that would activate the video feed from their end.

Watching as Benji went about adding the audio feed, Brandt quickly leaned over to Ethan, who was now taking his own seat. And out of the corner of his mouth, Brandt whispered to Ethan.

"Uh, do I wanna know why your hand is bleeding?"

"Slipped at breakfast," Ethan replied without taking his eyes off the monitor before them.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Ethan grimaced guardedly, when he remembered how his slice of toast this morning had almost become a slice of hand in his hurry to have breakfast _while_ finalizing his triple-print-out mission report.

But he had made it in time.

And as Ethan turned to face the Secretary on the screen before him with a friendly "Good Day, Mr. Secretary…", he couldn't help but also smile inwardly as he silently congratulated himself:

'Mission Accomplished, Ethan. Mission Accomplished.'

:o)

:o)

:o)

P.S. I. love. Feedback.


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